


the sun and moon walk into a bar

by cellardweller



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Reaper76 Week, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13399410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellardweller/pseuds/cellardweller
Summary: A marriage proposal.Reaper76 Week 2018 Day 2: “They loved each other” - love/affection





	the sun and moon walk into a bar

**Author's Note:**

> This is for day 2 of Reaper76 Week 2018! Theme was love/affection.

“Table of two for Mister Blue,” a hostess calls from the podium.  
  
Gabe startles as Jack stands up, smoothing the black wool coat he’s hung over his folded arms. He looks down with a quick, embarrassed smile, and gestures for Gabe to follow as he walks to the front of the small crowd of waiting patrons. No one really recognizes them. A few heads turn, but turn again as they perhaps decide they’re mistaken.  
  
“Mister Blue?” Gabe asks, playful.  
  
“Well,” Jack says, pulling down the rim of his hat as they walk. “Mister Morrison would have been a little too obvious, don’t you think?”  
  
They’re dressed as inconspicuously as possible without being obviously incognito. Most people have enough tact not to bother them in public spaces like this, but Gabe insisted on extra privacy. For whatever reason. Gabe’s wearing a suit, black scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, obscuring his neck and chin. Jack insisted that he looked _cozy,_ and that his facial hair was enough to identify him nowadays so he had to do something short of just shaving it off. He shivered at the thought. At least he had decided to do this during the holidays.  
  
Jack’s also wearing a suit. His method of concealing his identity consists of a hat and forgoing the half-visor for his casual glasses. They’re still made with the same technology in mind that allows him to see clearly out of his right eye. He always wondered at their use until he and Gabe began going on formal dates.  
  
Unfortunately neither of them can do anything about their size. Every time they go out they just hope folks mistake them for athletes and move on.  
  
“Be grateful, I could have used Mister Red,” he says, gently elbowing Gabe in the ribs.  
  
When they’re sat at their table they shed their disguises, putting hat and scarf to the side, Jack elects to keep the glasses on. Gabe watches him take them off briefly to wipe at a spot with the sleeve of his jacket and his train of thought derails completely, only able to feel the pounding of his heart as Jack sticks the edge of his tongue out in concentration. “Jack,” he chirps.  
  
“Hmm?” Jack looks up, slowly sliding his glasses back on. “What is it?”  
  
They’re in a small place in midtown Manhattan. Not the quietest place in town but in a city of a thousand different spots it serves its purpose – plus, no windows. Sometimes the best way to keep yourself hidden is to blend in with the crowd. Or try to. He thinks he spots a few eyes on them but brushes it off as hyper-vigilance. Meanwhile, the candlelight throws Jack into a dim glow that makes him look every bit the golden boy Gabe used to tease him with in SEP. The weight in his pocket feels like a rock and he thinks, at least, tonight is the perfect night to be absolutely fucked over this man.  
  
“Gabe?” Jack says. He’s got the glasses back on, staring at Gabe with a raised eyebrow. “Are you alright?”  
  
“Uhh,” Gabe says succinctly. “What are you drinking?”  
  
“Oh uh,” Jack says, running a hand down his tie. “A red, I guess. Some kind of red.” He chuckles nervously. Gabe narrows his eyes.  
  
The waiter interrupts them then, takes their drink order – two reds, ordered exactly like that – and leaves. Gabe reaches out under the table and Jack meets him halfway, taking his hand in his own. Jack runs his thumb over Gabe’s knuckles and glances around the restaurant. “You know, it’s funny,” he says. “I feel like I should be talking about something, but I’ve got nothing. I’m too- I- I’m just glad to be here with you.”  
  
Gabe can empathize. “I missed you,” he says. It’s the best _he_ do right now. He’s been on a mission in Newfoundland for the past three monthsand he kept sending Jack pictures of mountains. The report goes unwritten still, the two of them having been too caught up in their reunion. With how long they’ve been together, not every silence needs to be filled. Gabe squeezes his hand. Jack looks back over at him. “I did a lot of thinking when I was away.”  
  
“Oh?” Jack looks him up and down. There’s an uncertainty in his expression that Gabe spots immediately and shakes his head.  
  
“I mean, it was… _difficult_ , to be away from you that long.” God, what is he, a teenager? “We’ve been together for...”  
  
“Eight years,” Jack says.  
  
“Eight years, and we haven’t talked about it, but-”  
  
“Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen.”  
  
Gabe snaps back to reality at the waiter’s voice and he realizes that he and Jack are mere inches from each other. He’s actually grateful to be interrupted – he was talking himself into a goddamn landslide and he can’t do this _right here_ in front of all these people.  
  
“Despite what I’m sure is your best effort, I couldn’t help but recognize you.”  
  
Jack and Gabe turn towards him slowly. More than a few eyes are on them now, not with any particular scrutiny, but the two of them learned early on what muted excitement looks like on a person who’s actively considering approaching you.  
  
“I just want to offer you another table, actually. There are some booths upstairs, high-backed seats-” he leans in a bit “-much more private.”  
  
“Sounds great,” Jack says immediately, releasing Gabe’s hand under the table and collecting their things. Gabe follows after him carefully, collected and wearing his public mask.  
  
As soon as they’re deposited into the booth the waiter excuses himself. Jack has his hands laced together under his chin. “If I had just placed a reservation under my real name we could have avoided that,” he says.  
  
Gabe reaches over and holds both of his hands. “What’s the fun in that?” Jack smiles at him.  
  
“It’s so exhausting having this… public persona,” he says, vaguely gesturing to his own face. “I know you hate going out to places like this, but I thought we needed a night to ourselves, away from the base.”  
  
“I don’t hate it.” Gabe really doesn’t, but it causes problems for both his anxiety and practicality. The simple concept of being anywhere with Jack, just the two of them alone, is enough to make his heart burst out of his chest. Public doesn’t always respect that. “This is nice,” he says with an optimistic lilt. Their booth is truly private, and no one has passed by. They must be in a corner spot. “That was nice of him.”  
  
Jack’s rubbing his hands again. “What were you saying before?”  
  
“I have no fuckin’ idea, Jackie,” Gabe sighs. He straightens in his seat. “I, shit, I’m not the public speaker out of the two of us. Bear with me,” he says. Jack smiles at him again, recognizing Gabe’s nerves just by how much he’s swearing. He’s always been like this. He anchors him by gripping his hands tighter and bringing them to his lips. “Listen, Overwatch-Blackwatch aside, I’m not comfortable spending more time away from you than necessary.”  
  
Jack nods.  
  
“We’ve been through everything together, we’ve been through the weirdest shit imaginable and I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you, it’s just not there.”  
  
“I feel the same way, you know that,” Jack says. “I need you with me, you’re the only one I trust. You’re the only one I love, Gabe.”  
  
Gabe grimaces like he’s gonna be sick, muttering a quiet _fuck_ under his breath and he wriggles one hand out of Jack’s grasp and digs into his pocket. “I’m yours, you know, and I want to make this official.” He brings the small box out of his jacket and sets it on the table, opening it with one hand and gesturing to the gold ring inside.  
  
Jack stares at it, mouth agape, long enough for Gabe to get nervous. “I know it’s tricky with our positions and all, but it’s just us, this is just between me and you, like always,” he says.  
  
Still silent, Jack keeps staring at the ring, his grip on Gabe’s other hand slackening more with every passing second.  
  
“What the fuck are you staring at?” Gabe asks, no heat in his voice.  
  
Jack comes back to the moment as if slapped, letting go of his hand and pushing himself away from the table and shimmying out of the booth. “God _damn it,_ Gabe,” he says.  
  
“ _What.”_  
  
The wool coat had fallen on the floor, evidently, and Jack digs into his own pocket to pull out another little box, opens it to reveal a plain gold ring inside, and slams it onto the table in front of Gabe.  
  
The waiter returns for the briefest instant and disappears just as quickly.  
  
A laugh rushes out of Gabe like a breath. He pulls Jack into his side of the booth and crowds him in, arms wrapping around his chest, a hand winding into his hair. “I could never get the drop on you,” Jack murmurs into his ear. His hand grips the back of his neck as they kiss, Jack bracing himself with one hand on the table.  
  
“So, is that a yes?” Gabe asks when they break apart.  
  
“Yeah,” Jack says. He’s got his hands holding his face, running a thumb over a scar that runs through his eyebrow. He’s always had a fondness for the scars on his face, and now that sentimental smile has intensified tenfold. “How about you?”  
  
“Uh huh,” Gabe says, pulling him in close enough to feel his breath on his lips. He grins. “We might have to kill the waiter, though.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this very quickly today so I hope it's at least cute. Thank you for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr @missmonomyth
> 
> (also I know those aren't really like, engagement rings but fuck diamonds)


End file.
